


I Can Fake It As Good as You

by musiclily88



Series: Wasted Youth// There Wasn't Much to Waste [30]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Boys Being Idiots, Deepthroating, Depression, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, handjob, stupid fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:23:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2409896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/pseuds/musiclily88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Nice water pressure you have here, Tommo.”</p>
<p>“It figures you only love me for my amenities.”</p>
<p>Liam’s face went flushed for a moment but then he rolled his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>OR: dumb boys being dumb</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Fake It As Good as You

**Author's Note:**

> Title, as ever, from Margot and the Nuclear So and Sos song "Dress Me Like a Clown"

“I’ve died and gone to hell,” Louis moaned, dropping to his knees on the pavement. “This is hell.”

“Come on, you can do it. Just a half a mile more,” Liam encouraged, jogging in place beside Louis’ half-prostrate form.

Louis cracked open one eye and looked up. “I always thought Satan would be prettier. Fallen angel, you know? Not that you don’t have charms of your own, but in my head, Satan doesn’t really have—biceps.”

“I’ll leave you here, I swear to god.”

“See, now that does sound like something Satan would say.” Louis groaned. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into jogging. On a Saturday.”

“This was your idea.”

“I can’t believe I associate with people who tell such outright and blatant lies. Or people who agree to jog with me without first checking that I’m not suffering from some kind of weird delirium.”

“You want biceps and abs that won’t quit, you’ve got to put in the time,” Liam said with a shrug, picking up in a light jog again, moving in place.

“That’s the thing, though, I have the option of quitting. It’s quite an attractive option. I don’t want abs, I’ve changed my mind.”

“What do you want, then?”

“A pint.”

“You can have one after we’ve finished.”

“No, I’ll just wait here. Come back and fetch me with a wagon or a rickshaw.”

“You’re going to wait. Just sit here and wait?”

“Yup, just gonna sit here on the pavement and wait for my life to start.” Louis sighed a little at that, at the careless way the words had slipped out of his mouth. He felt static and plateaued and like, yes, he was waiting for his life to start. Wasn’t this supposed to be some of the best years of his life, a frustrating voice bellowed in the back of his head? Wasn’t he supposed to be loving life, not simply waiting around for it to begin?

“Hate to break it to you, but life starts while you’re out doing other things.”

“Well I’d hate to miss that doing something as inauspicious as jogging.”

_My life is starting and I’m getting left behind._

With a heaving sigh, Louis hefted himself to his feet. “Do you actually enjoy jogging, then, Payno?” he asked, not yet moving from his stationary position.

“I do a lot of things I don’t enjoy,” Liam replied easily, shrugging.

“That’s the spirit. Really making me want to take up a life of exercise and self-loathing.”

“You’ve got the self-loathing down at least.”

“He jokes!”

“We’re not all stodgy and self-obsessed like you.”

“Okay, for one, how very dare you. For two, good on you for learning two new big-boy words. For three, exercise is literally the most self-obsessed activity there is, outside of wanking.”

“My heart rate is dropping. Come on.”

They continued jogging in relative silence—aside from Louis’ muttered complaints—until they reached Louis’ house again. He led the way through the front door, opening up into the massive foyer.

“Do you really want pints now? Because I kind of would prefer to, like, not be super sweaty.”

“Say whatever you want, but I’m not gonna suck you off in the shower.”

Liam snorted but flushed slightly. “Since when?”

“Trying to be a better friend or something. And like, chafing. Come on, I need water.” He traipsed into the kitchen, assuming Liam was following behind. He spotted his stepfather sitting at the table, a small stack of paperwork piled before him. Lottie had half her body inside the refrigerator, seemingly searching for a mid-morning food.

Liam stood by the kitchen doorway, shuffling his feet a bit. “You did a good job jogging today, though, Lou. Despite the moaning.”

“Pretty words will get you nowhere, Li, I’m still not going to blow you in the shower.” Louis threw open a cabinet to collect glasses for water.

“Louis!” his stepdad barked, shoving back his chair. “Please.”

“What? You were one of the first to tell me to stop slutting around.”

“What I said was you need to present yourself well and accurately. Which includes being polite in front of guests and your sister.”

“My guest has seen it and my sister doesn’t care. She’s an adult.”

“Am not, but nearly. Could do with you being less twatty, I guess,” Lottie called, swinging the fridge door open wider.

“Lovely,” Louis muttered, moving to fill the glasses with water.

“Kitchen’s all yours, boys, don’t want to get inside of this!” she added, leaving the room.

“This?” he asked, incredulous. “What _this?”_

“Discussion about the real world, my boy. Have a seat, yeah?”

Louis snorted at _my boy_ and took a seat, as though he had any other option. “Shower’s all yours if you want it, Li. I have extra trackies if you can find anything to fit over your ridiculous muscles.”

“Cheers,” Liam said gratefully, leaving the room.

“Serious face, on. Serious talk, go.”

His stepdad sighed. “Drop the tone, please.”

“Right.”

He sighed and steepled his fingers on the tabletop, nodding once. “So. We’ve already established that you don’t want my business. But figuring out your future is still important. What with you going to university next year, I mean. I expect you’ll need a postgraduate degree for whatever endeavour you have planned, so I’ll make a deal with you: if you get into an undergraduate program that’ll offer you a stipend or scholarship, even in part, I’ll pay for the rest and for your postgrad too. Otherwise I’ll just cover undergraduate and you’ll have to do loans or something for your plans after that. Sound reasonable?”

“Um.” Louis gaped. “What if I want to take a gap year?”

His brow furrowed. “To do what? I can’t foot the bill for you faffing about in Thailand, getting drunk in huts, Louis.”

“Slutting about with Thai pros, you mean.”

“You said it. Not me.”

Louis bought himself a moment by taking a sip of water. “Why are you even offering this to me?”

“You need—direction, forward momentum. I’m aware that sometimes, er, encouragement and support are necessary. I’m offering you this because I can afford to, but more importantly, because I don’t actually want you to be miserable _and_ poor after school.”

“So I take it I won’t be the one inheriting your money, then?” Louis asked slowly, jaw clenched.

“Not sure there’ll be any left, at the rate we seem to keep having kids, actually.”

“I—what.”

His stepfather shook his head and shrugged. “You have time to think on it, and obviously you need to get your acceptances back. But I wanted to put this in your ear.”

“Okay.”

“I’d—just, don’t waste your potential, son. You have. You have a lot to offer.”

Louis blinked. “I what?”

His stepfather just smiled blearily, turning his face down to look at the papers in front of him again. Louis felt dismissed. He left the kitchen, trailing his way upstairs slowly. He entered his room and flopped down onto his bed, mumbling, “What the he fuck?” He listened to the sounds of the shower from his en-suite, wondered idly if Liam was jacking it in the shower.

Louis wanted to do a gap year not to be contrary, but just because he didn’t know what the fuck to actually _do_ with his life, and uni seemed like a big fuck-off commitment for someone destined to screw himself over at every turn. He wanted his shit in order at least slightly before he made big decisions, and his shit was decidedly disordered.

Just like his head.

And fuck, maybe he wanted the chance to just…do something for himself, not to make anyone else happy or live up to anyone else’s expectations. And that felt selfish and scary but also absolutely right.

Fuck the rest.

He was still lying prone when Liam finished his shower and exited the bathroom in nothing but a beige towel. “Nice water pressure you have here, Tommo.”

“It figures you only love me for my amenities.”

Liam’s face went flushed for a moment but then he rolled his eyes. He immediately crossed to a pile of clothes on Louis’ floor. “Are any of these clean?”

“All of them.”

“And they’re on the floor because—?”

“I pulled them all out of my closet when I was trying to decide what to wear for our deeply dissatisfying jog. I deemed them all unfit and so, yeah. Floor.”

Liam sighed heavily before dropping his towel and stepping into a pair of loose joggers. He then picked up the discarded towel and returned it to the bathroom, hanging it up on the rack.

“So polite.”

“Yeah well we can’t all get by on a cheeky smile,” he said, returning to the room only to kneel on the bed beside Louis. “Budge.”

Louis moved over and let Liam curl up beside him, feeling his steam-warmed skin and wet hair. He sighed.

“You were serious about not sucking me off in the shower, then. Shame.”

“Yeah, trying this new thing called not being an utter cock to people who deserve better than the shitshow that is my personality. It’s novel but I expect it to wear off soon.”

“Shut up, please.” Liam tucked one arm behind Louis’ head, cradling it slightly.

“Instead I had to endure a really awkward conversation with my stepdad about uni.”

“Oh?”

“He offered to pay for undergrad, or if I get into somewhere with a scholarship, he’ll help with postgrad.”

“That’s—wow.” Liam’s arm tensed behind Louis’ head and he exhaled sharply. “Wow. That’s nice of him.”

“I dunno. I don’t think I’m ready, I want to take a gap year. I’m just—everything’s so fucked up and I can’t do that to myself on top of everything else, but he doesn’t see that. And part of me wants to just flip him the bird and say fuck it, I don’t want to be beholden to you and fuck your money too.”

Liam snorted, pulling away from Louis slightly. “You say that because you’ve always had money, though. It’s an easy statement to make when it’s not reality.”

“I mean—well we didn’t _always_ always have money. Not when it was just me and my mum,” Louis admitted quietly, voice void of emotion. He wanted to be void of emotion too. “Bio dad left when I was like a week old. High and dry, we were. And she married my stepdad soon enough after, we were never in any danger of anything bad, but we weren’t always—here. Where we are.”

“Wealthy as a motherfuck, you mean.” Liam’s tone was stilted, and the air felt tight.

“Whatever. I can’t just shuffle forward in the same way I’ve been going lately, I’m trying to do better, okay? I’m trying to actually give a goddamn, and I’m not gonna manage to do that if I pick a random uni and a random course stream and just let my entire life wash over me.”

Liam nodded, his head bumping Louis’ face. “That does sound pretty bleak.”

“And he had the gall to like tell me I have potential or promise, or something, and not to waste it?”

“That’s a compliment, you realize.”

“It’s fucking annoying, is what it is.”

“Least your dad compliments you.”

“He’s not my fucking dad.”

“Oh I—sorry. Yeah, that was a bit shit of me.”

“Look, I’m not—you’ve got crap of your own and your dad’s a right cunt, obviously, but I just. I just can’t keep all of that in my head and also keep all of my own stuff in my head. I need to, like. I don’t know. I can’t process. I can only just feel one thing at a time and right now I feel shit.”

Liam stiffened like it was a habit. “I don’t want you to pity me.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t.”

“And it’s like fine if you have shit you need to figure out, it’s not like I’m here demanding you love and cherish me.”

“What?”

“The ship’s pretty much sailed on that.”

“Wait, what?”

“Lou,” Liam wheedled, sitting up properly, removing himself from Louis’ space.

“What?” Louis asked, moving into the foetal position, facing Liam but only just.

“You have it in your head that you’re incapable of loving people.”

“No. That’s not true.”

“And that you’re unlovable.”

“That’s more, uh. Yeah. That’s more it.”

“Even though you’re not, obviously. Because like—obviously.”

“There are too many revelations happening today, please, Liam, please. Please don’t.” Louis turned over onto his stomach, pressing his face into the pillow beneath his head.

“That’s what I mean. Or part of it I guess. I don’t have it all organized in my head. Because you and I, we’re a bit shit, aren’t we. To borrow a phrase. Because I love you and you love me and I’m right here and you’re a thousand miles away.”

“I’m not.”

“A thousand miles away from being able to be comfortable with loving me. Yeah. You are.”

Louis stood bodily up from the bed and careened into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He started the water in the shower and tried to breathe like a person who didn’t want to die. He stripped down before the water was hot, punishing himself with the frigidity. He stood under the harsh spray, breathing heavily.

He heard the door open and shut but refused to turn and look at Liam. He started when Liam entered the shower beside him, having discarded the joggers on the floor.

“What are—” he began before getting abruptly cut off by Liam sinking him into a deep kiss. Louis melted against him, melted against his better judgment and against normal odds. He melted like he was meant to kiss Liam until the day he died.

He felt Liam’s lips purse up into a smile, so he opened his own mouth to force their tongues together roughly. He trailed one hand along Liam’s hip, pressed his fingers in with a bruising urgency. He let Liam force their pelvises together, let their cocks brush against one another underneath the warming water.

He let Liam back him up against the tiled shower wall, and he merely breathed raggedly when he felt Liam’s steady hand force both their dicks together unceremoniously.

“Fuck,” Louis whispered, eyes shuttered down. He peppered soft kisses on Liam’s lips, arms tight around Liam’s neck and shoulders. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Whatever I want.”

Liam ran his thumb along Louis’ slit, making him inhale sharply through his nose. He shunted forward into the touch, his skin warm beneath the water, his chest warm against Liam’s.

And like that they worked themselves over, rutting and swearing and breathing in each others’ exhalations. Louis let Liam kiss his lips and nose and collarbone, and he kept his fingers pressed in tight against his hips.

“God, you’re just so,” Louis stuttered out, eyes still shut tight, fingers forced deep against the flesh of Liam’s body.

“You too, you too, always,” was Liam’s whispered response, “so pretty for me.”

“Fuck, close, too riled up to last.”

“Hold on a little bit, try to come with me.”

Louis caught his breath and squeezed his eyes shut, abs contracting as he felt heat coiling tight in his stomach and chest. “Hurry up, Li, not gonna make it,” he muttered, Liam’s calloused hand tight on their slick cocks, picking up speed. “Yeah that’s it, babe, come on.”

Liam came slightly before Louis, the warm slick of his come pushing Louis over the edge only moments after. It took a minute before Louis noticed that Liam was murmuring over the noise of the shower. “You’re good, love, you’re all right. So pretty for me, love.”

Louis finally opened his eyes and shifted himself sideways, just barely out of Liam’s touch. “Why?”

“Wanted to.”

“You can’t just—”

“I can just,” Liam countered, ducking forward to kiss Louis again, startlingly gentle. “You don’t scare me.”

Louis huffed a loud sigh. “Fine. Then you can wash my hair.”

He forced Liam to help him through the rest of his shower, made him the distributor of soap and shampoo and conditioner. He even coerced Liam into shaving his three-day stubble and his own light five-o-clock shadow.

Louis sighed as he turned the water off, shutting his eyes once again. “Do we need to talk about this?”

“Hand me that towel?” Liam said, pointing at the rack outside the shower.

“Li.” Louis leveled him a dark glance but still retrieved the towel, getting one for himself as well. They exited the shower slowly.

“I know you’re fucked up or whatever but I don’t care. So we’re fine. And I swear to Christ if you—” Here he cut himself off, biting at his bottom lip for a moment. He wrapped the towel around his waist and sighed.

“If I?” Louis dried off his face and neck carefully, deliberately not making eye contact, avoiding his glance in the mirror.

“If you think you’re using me, you’re wrong. So cut the pity.”

“I don’t pity you!” Louis snapped, dropping his towel before picking it up again swiftly.

“Good.”

“Sometimes I’m just surprised you don’t hate me. By all accounts, bro, you probably should.” He slowly looked into the mirror, trying to tell himself he was fine. _Fine._

“Don’t tell me what to do, yeah? I’ve got a mind too.” Liam brusquely ran the towel over himself, barely managing to dry any portion of his body.

“What are you doing next year?” Louis questioned, drying off his chest and shoulders.

“Manchester. Football. Sound engineering.” He knotted the towel at his waist.

“Meet a nice girl and settle down?”

“Fuck you,” Liam growled, yanking the bathroom door open before stalking out into Louis’ room.

“Sorry!”

Liam stopped, breath harsh. “You’re annoying.”

“And yet you’re here,” Louis replied, standing in the doorway.

“Where should I be?”

“I’m the wrong person. I just am.”

“The wrong person? The fuck does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

Liam rounded on Louis but stayed out of his space. “Yeah. You don’t know as much as you think you do, okay? So back the fuck up a bit and just, like—it’s. It’s fine if you can’t say you love me. Just let me exist in a world where I love you, okay?”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“But maybe I do.”

“No, fuck you. You deserve more. You love so much and get jack-shit in return, you get so much less than you deserve.” Louis started quivering slightly, wet with anger and from the warmth of the shower. He felt like he might shake apart. “You have places worth going and I’m just here, trying to pull myself together so I can wait for my life to start.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Hate to tell you, princess, but life—”

“Don’t you dare. Look, I’m thrilled you’re dealing with your depression and anxiety and that terrifying suicidal thing, but—”

“Eloquently put, thank you for so succinctly packaging up my symptoms, Liam, I appreciate it.”

“Shut up and let me talk! You don’t have to hook up with me, or let me spend time with you, you don’t even have to look at me, but you have no say whatsoever in whether or not I love you!”

Louis frowned, looking down at the floor. “People who love each other shouldn’t fight as much as we do.”

“We fight all the time because you’re constantly lying to yourself and being completely ridiculous!”

“You don’t know what you’re offering! I’m broken and that’s crap, and it means the roughest road in the world! Just having someone love me isn’t going to make my panic attacks go away and it isn’t going to stop me from wanting to die! Pretty little promises are nice but they’re not therapeutic! Mental illness is stubborn as fuck and I can’t let you throw yourself into the muck with me when I have no idea if I’m even going to be making progress any time soon!”

“You’ve already made progress, Lou.”

“Stop it. You’re just telling me what you think I want to hear. Paying lip service or something. Trying to trick me into—”

“That’s what you think of me?” Liam questioned loudly, starling Louis.

“No, I just—I just need friends, okay? I’m trying to be honest and I honestly need a friend. So, I’m sorry, I really am. And if you need space, that’s okay, but I just can’t make promises right now, not about anything.”

“Okay.”

Louis sighed. “And because you’re not Zayn, I know you’re not going to just say okay and then try to manipulate your way into my pants anyway.”

“Wait. I can’t even get in your pants anymore?”

Louis groaned, tipping his head sideways so it hit the doorframe.

“Of all people I figured _you_ could differentiate between love and sex, Christ.”

“I can. It’s my oxytocin that can’t.” Louis shook his head. “I mean, no. I can. I can tell the difference.”

“But?”

“Can you?”

Liam blinked rapidly before straight-up guffawing, loudly. He tipped his head back and he laughed so hard his eyes crinkled and began tearing up. After catching his breath, he snorted one. “Yeah. I can.”

“You can?”

“That’s how I know I’m in love with you.”

“What, the interim hickeys taught you about how to be in a relationship?”

“I don’t really think that’s somewhere we should go right now.”

“No?”

“You do enough hurting yourself. You don’t need me to hurt you too.”

“Touché,” Louis said with a shrug.

“And anyway, I wasn’t your first and you weren’t mine. That’s the way things go sometimes.”

“Such sage wisdom.”

“I’m not all looks.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “You’ve also got a stature that I could climb like a tree.”

“You’re an idiot,” Liam said, dropping his towel yet again before surging forward to kiss Louis hungrily, cupping his jaw and the back of his neck tightly. Louis let his own towel drop, replacing is hands on Liam’s hips were bruises were already forming. He held on fiercely, mewling into the angry kiss. He liked the bite of it, the inexplicable emotions implied by the rough rasp of their tongues and lips against one another.

Louis yanked Liam forward and flushed their bodies together, moving sideways so that they both tumbled onto his bed, Louis beneath Liam’s heavy body. Louis couldn’t remember if he’d locked the door when he entered and only a distant portion of his brain actually cared. He pulled out of Liam’s grasp momentarily, flipping them so that Liam was on his back. He planted his hands on either side of Liam’s abs, levering himself up to kneel between Liam’s legs.

He ignored Liam’s breathy gasps and paid attention only to the semi-erect cock right in front of his face. He eased back the foreskin gently and took the head into his mouth, tightening his lips carefully. He swirled his tongue along the slit and ignored the sounds Liam was making because suddenly he had tunnel vision. Feelings overwhelmed him and so they got shuttered away in favour of _this this this_ and _now now now._

He ignored Liam’s whispered proclamations of beauty and love, instead working one spit-soaked fist around the base of Liam’s dick, working his own throat open in order to take more of his cock.

Although he was letting Liam inside him, letting him invade and taking him down, part of him wanted to curl up inside Liam, instead. He wanted to tuck himself inside of Liam’s warm heart and rough laugh, wanted to fall into him like an open grave. He wanted them to be the last two people at the end of the world, with nothing else at all. With no one else. He felt like he could dive into a nightmare and trust Liam to hold his hand through it.

Part of him hated it. Part of him craved the adoration.

His body no longer damp from the shower, Louis forced himself forward with a strange, muted anger, disappointment and frustration hot on his tongue along with Liam’s cock. He stretched his mouth open so wide it hurt a little, but his eyes stayed dry. He forced himself forward so much that his nose touched Liam’s lower belly, the head of Liam’s cock shoved past Louis’ gag reflex.

Liam swore and yanked on Louis’ hair, one thumb pressing against Louis’s cheekbone. Louis pulled Liam’s hips forward, silently willing him to fuck his throat with _actual_ abandon, without the tempered patience that Liam seemed so intent on displaying.

Louis gagged loudly, tonguing along the underside of Liam’s cock as his throat constricted despite himself.

“Fuck, fuck,” Liam muttered, hips stuttering up, the head forced even deeper down Louis’ throat. Louis’ mouth watered as he gagged again, spit soaking the skin between him and Liam. “Fuck, your mouth is heaven,” he growled, trying to push Louis back with one hand on his shoulder. “Want me to come down your throat, babe?”

Louis kept his hands tight on Liam’s hips, mashed against the bruises and the meat of Liam’s muscles. He was getting lightheaded, not just from the cock fucking his mouth but from the day’s conversation and the exertion of the morning and from the anger roiling in his gut.

Liam groaned and his abs flexed, hot ropes of come spurting down Louis’ open throat. He bumped against Louis’ nose clumsily before collapsing back against the bed with another groan. Louis coughed and spluttered as he pulled off, his lips covered in spit and his throat stinging with salty come. He sneezed, making Liam laugh.

Liam grabbed Louis’ waist and hauled him up so their chests were snug together, damp again with a sheen of sweat. “Gotta love a four-minute refractory period,” Liam mused, eyes fluttering shut.

“Sometimes it’s nice being a teenager,” Louis agreed, voice gravelly.

“You look so pretty like that, Lou, all hot lips and pink cheeks. Fuck.”

“Shut up, please,” Louis said, placing his face in the juncture of Liam’s shoulder, feeling himself drift off, emotions as raw as his voice.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: musiclily


End file.
